A Pair of Temeritous Souls
by BlossomingSun
Summary: A not-so-usual look at the years after Namek and before the arrival of the Androids. Bulma is striving to become more successful than her father as the president of Capsule Corporation. Vegeta will endeavor until death to become Legendary. Can anything get in their way of attaining perfection? Rating may change in later chapters.
1. Housing an Internecine Cockalorum

Chapter 1: Housing an Internecine Cockalorum

_"It is better to live one day as a Lion, than a thousand days as a Lamb."_

She had told herself that she would stay strong in the face of death. She would not fear him, nor would she give way to shaking knees in the midst of this sunshine-strewn grass. She had built a stone wall around her emotional defenses, stone by stone. Each blast that she'd seen end a person's life, each moment that she'd been closer to death, her heart had hardened. Perhaps she had built this wall too well.

Without a second glance at the ebony flames that formed his mane, or glancing into the menacing irises that had watched the deaths of billions, she had held Death's gaze and invited him into her home. As if she was happy to set out finger sandwiches and a pot of tea for his company.

Surprisingly, he had relented to her solicitation.

Bulma Briefs now had the singular conundrum of housing one galactic murderer known as Vegeta, the Prince of Saiyans. Possibly the most maniacally power hungry creature that she'd ever met, and Bulma had practically commanded the Prince to stay on the Capsule Corporation premises. She could feel her pulse thrumming feverishly in her head.

Bulma wasn't sure what possessed her to lump Vegeta in with the Namekians and bring them all to Capsule Corp. The Namekians certainly deserved a place to stay, they had been through enough trouble. Inviting Vegeta had been an afterthought.

Of course, there were many reasons to keep Vegeta nearby. No one was better equipped than Bulma to keep an eye on the homicidal Saiyan Prince. She was the only one with near-unlimited resources to feed and house him as well. Bulma would stand the best chance at keeping him from killing people, but she also felt that she owed a small piece of thanks to Vegeta.

Perhaps it was the fact that he had shown her the smallest measure of mercy on Namek. He'd had the chance to kill her, with nothing more than a flick of his wrist, and he'd simply left her there. Granted, Bulma had been pretty much slated to die on that planet if Dende hadn't wish everyone to Earth, but it was a kindness nonetheless. Another reason was he had given her the only other option of bringing Goku and Krillin back from the dead. Again, the Prince of Saiyans could've stayed silent and kept his place as the strongest warrior alive, but he'd given the title up mere minutes after she'd lost hope.

The ruminating figure of her thoughts was still lingering in the shadows of the trees, and Bulma couldn't help but admire how the remnants of his armor and suit clung to his rippling muscles.

_Besides the fact that he's an arrogant jerk_, Bulma thought, _Vegeta is pretty cute. _The one positive note was that she wouldn't be without eye-candy while Yamcha was gone.

_What am I saying? …He's probably going to murder me in my sleep if I so much as breathe in his direction. _The blue-haired genius sighed, silently agreeing to herself that it might be best to count to ten before making impulsive decisions from that moment forward.

Bulma had created the timely interruption of the liftoff of her father's newest ship, with more of the Z Gang prepared to head for Namek. Her father and accompanying friends brought an airship to carry everyone to the large estate.

"Home, sweet home," Bulma sighed with relief as the large CC logo came into view.

As the hum of the engines began to lessen, her father glanced behind his shoulder again before whispering to her, "And you're sure these people are peaceful, dear?"

"I promise that they're harmless dad, they won't cause any trouble. Well, at least none of the green guys will. I can't guarantee anything about Vegeta," The young heiress answered in kind.

She wasn't sure why she was whispering, seeing as the Monkey Prince had declined to share space with the Namekians and the others in the back, choosing to fly beside the airship instead. The ship landed with a light thud, the doors opening and streaming in sunshine. The Namekians and her friends were smiling while gazing at the sky, sunlight warming her cheeks as she smiled.

It was such a change from the last moments of Namek, it felt surreal, a dream.

Her home was just as she remembered it, with a few new additions to the house and a large spaceship that sat on the large grounds near the private residences of the Briefs. Her bedroom had been frozen in time, nothing moved or changed since she'd left. Her mother must've had someone come in and clean however, because her lab had remained untouched

The rest of the day was filled with embarrassing moments credited to Bulma's mother, reminiscing with the remaining Z Gang and Professor Briefs' informing Bulma of everything that she had missed on the business-end of Capsule Corporation for the past few months. It brought her mind rushing back, grounding her in the reality of what she'd left behind. The day culminated in a large, buffet style dinner for everyone beneath a star-blanketed sky. It was almost like old times, if Bulma ignored that most of her friends and loved ones were dead.

Oh, and she couldn't forget there was a mass murderer simultaneous brooding and eating in a far-off corner.

Filling up her plate a second time, Bulma gazed at the talkative groups interspersed through the grounds, still finding herself heading towards Vegeta against her better judgement. She could face Death Incarnate once more before the end of the day. Couldn't she?

"Hey, mind if I sit here?" Although Vegeta's plates seem to be doing a pretty good job of taking up most of the space, Bulma noticed. All Saiyans must have an incredible appetite if the process of the Prince eating by inhalation was any indication.

Nothing more than a quiet 'hmph' was gifted to her from the Prince of Saiyans as he continued to stuff his face. Bulma had to give him credit though, not a crumb was spilled. He certainly had better manners than Goku.

Bulma brought up the subject that everyone had been talking about that day, "Aren't you glad that Freiza's dead? Shouldn't you be just as happy as the rest of us?" She didn't catch the flash of anger in his eyes at the mention of their dead enemy.

"I doubt that I would find the capacity for happiness to be even slightly useful and the action of feeling happy to be even less so," His voice had bit out the word 'happy' contemptuously, as if it had burnt his tongue. He'd yet to glance up at her since she'd sat down to eat.

"… Right," She ran a hand through her hair, feeling more awkward by the second. Her focus fixated on the broken armor that Vegeta wore. The small, scarred spot in his flesh, concentrated over his heart, was the point where the light had left the Prince's eyes.

"So you don't care?" The question ended lamely as she realized the absurdity of her question. Bulma Briefs didn't typically flounder at social gathers or at conversations. Maybe she'd stayed on Namek for a little too long.

"I am satisfied that Freiza has finally been wiped from the face of this galaxy, Earthling," The dark words sent a shiver up Bulma's spine despite the heat in the air. Looking up, she was trapped in the Prince's gaze.

"What are you going to do now that Freiza is gone? Will you head back into space?" The Capsule Corp. heiress attempted to not sound too hopeful.

Nothing more than a mere shrug was her answer. Bulma had officially written Vegeta, Prince of all Saiyans, as a difficult person to live with and it'd only been one day. She wasn't looking forward to his indefinite residence.

Bulma twirled her fork while continuing to speak, "So, does that mean you plan on staying long? I'll go ahead and let my mother know to make up a room for you-"

"Do you always prattle on like this?" The Saiyan Prince interrupted her, "I have withstood your incessant questions because you have offered me this pitiful semblance of hospitality, but I have tired of this conversation. Leave me, woman,"

Bulma's jaw dropped at his dismissal, but she came short of any words, she was nothing more than a soundless gape. Vegeta continued to eat, now ignoring her presence with ease.

Taking a deep breath, the blue beauty remembered to count to ten before attempting something rash, but the Royal-Pain-in-Her-Ass made it more than difficult to keep her reasonably calm demeanor. She set her fork down and steepled her fingers before setting her chin upon her delicate knuckles.

Her voice was deceptively calm as she leaned closer to him, whispering "Vegeta, I will give you this singular warning. My 'pitiful' hospitality is the only kind that you will probably receive on this entire planet, so you better begin acting a little more grateful. Otherwise, I will have to take back my invitation and you can go live with Goku's family in wilderness. I'm sure you'd enjoy that very much,"

She stood abruptly and flashed a dazzling smile at the stunned Saiyan before bidding him a cheerful, "Goodnight Vegeta! Enjoy the rest of your dinner,"

This was the first moment that Vegeta, Prince of the Ancient Warrior Race known as the Saiyans, was both surprised and intrigued by a woman. The Earthling known as Bulma stood up to him, even though he could easily destroy her entire life and planet and probably get away with it. He intimidated her, sure, but it seemed that since their first meeting on Namek, something had changed.

Bulma had invited him to stay at her home, but he was sure that she had an ulterior motive. Everyone always wanted something. Vegeta has learned that early on in his service to Freiza.

Snorting, he continued to finish off his third helping. He would find out soon enough, he knew how to break those with soft hearts and woman was certainly of that type. She had even attempted to hold a conversation with him, boring him with droll subjects that held no importance to him. Freiza being gone, Vegeta would not allow himself to be used or manipulated. Not ever again.

The woman had asked why he was staying and for how long, and Vegeta knew he would stay as long as it took to achieve his goal. He wasn't here to make friends on this tedious mudball. He would train here until he was able to discover the secret of Kakarot's power from the imbecile when he came back and then Vegeta would disappear.

He would stay until he became the Legendary.

After attaining the elusive power and defeating Kakarot once and for all, Vegeta would leave. Depending on his mood at the end of his sojourn on Earth, he'd either destroy the despicable planet, or he'd simply leave to become the emperor of the galaxy.

It was settled.


	2. Postprandial Ponderings

Chapter 2: Postprandial Ponderings

_"The Little Emotions are the Great Captains of our lives and we obey them without realizing it."_

It had been over a month since coming back to Earth, and Bulma was offering her skin to the afternoon sunshine, enjoying the near-quiet in the late afternoon. It warmed her heart to know that she was back home, safe and sound. It still surprised her, and on the occasional morning, bright blue eyes would snap open only to slowly realize that she wasn't on the unfamiliarity of Namek or in the voidless existence of Space.

The short hemline of her summer dress hung casually across her thighs, the bright yellow fabric reflecting the sunny weather. A book on Quantum Field Theory perched upon Bulma's knees, her mind was replete with thoughts far different from her inventions.

Bulma was rapidly coming to the conclusion that she was done with adventuring for the rest of her life. Sure, it'd been fun when she was younger, but the seasoned heiress was looking forward to staying on Earth, tinkering in her lab while overseeing Capsule Corporation. It was a tamer and much more appealing horizon that would come with new challenges.

Not that she was ready to plant roots for good, Bulma arrived at her first obstacle.

Yamcha was coming back soon, which wasn't a problem in and of itself. The dilemma that she found herself in was the fact that Yamcha had been pressing her for marriage before the arrival of Raditz. He'd been proposing the idea for a while before that, but the sapphire genius had her own aspirations and dreams to fulfill before starting a family.

That had been part of the reason she'd gone to Namek, to explore and find something to get rid the restlessness in her soul.

She loved Yamcha and she enjoyed his company. He was easy-going and laid back, he helped her relax, eased her worrying, but Bulma wanted to become President of Capsule Corporation. The legacy that her father had started was more important to her than continuing the Briefs line. It wasn't unappealing to think of herself with kids, it just wasn't for her right now.

Not that she was exactly with Yamcha at the moment, him being dead and all. Oh well, she'd cross that bridge when she got to it.

A muffled explosion dragged Bulma from her thoughts and she tilted her head towards the noise. It was a daily occurrence at the Briefs household, these incessant explosions that would jolt the groundskeepers when they'd forgotten that there was a man with the ability to create atomic bombs within his palms.

Most of the people that worked on the premises of Capsule Corp. had been given the choice of signing a waiver to deny any knowledge of Vegeta or the choice to be relieved of their stations at the company. Everyone had simply agreed to the waiver, but a few had quit since the Saiyan Prince had taken up permanent residence.

Vegeta was menacing to most and truculent to all, with the singular exception of Bulma's mother. It must have been her cooking that chased away the black cloud that always seemed to linger above the Saiyan's head.

"Oh sweetheart, there you are!" Her mother's voice beckoned her head to rise and turn towards the house. She smiled as the blonde woman came into view, carrying a water can. "Could you give me a hand with something?"

Shutting her book, Bulma nodded before standing, "Sure mom, what do you need help with?"

"Well, dinner is nearly ready and I wanted you to go let Vegeta know that he should take a shower before eating," Her mother's voice lowered to a whisper, "Otherwise that handsome man smells like a bed of wilted petunias," Bulma always thought her mother was too nice, even when talking about less pleasant subjects.

A sigh left the young woman's lips, "Mom, you know how that man is with training. He's not going to stop until he's ready,"

"Oh, I don't know about that. He's a very nice young man and besides, who could resist such a beautiful girl like you calling them to dinner?" Bunny gave her a wink and brushed a short blue curl away from her daughter's face.

A mortified look surfaced on the younger Briefs' face, "Oh God, let's not joke about the possibility of Vegeta and I ever having a more than a hostile relationship,"

Her mother lightly smacked her on the shoulder with her free hand, watering the potted plants by Bulma's chair with the other. "Don't be so dramatic, young lady. Now stop procrastinating, and get Vegeta,"

The surprising deftness of her mother's hand had Bulma headed towards in the direction of the Gravity Simulation Room. Rounding a large white building, the energy outbursts were causing a dance of blue light against the dome's windows.

Capsule Ship 3 – painted in large black letters above the entrance – greeted Bulma as her attention was raptly taken by the flashing apparition caged within the ship.

If there was one thing that Bulma Briefs admired about the Prince of Saiyans, it was his training routine. He was consistent and driven each and every day. Vegeta flew off to Kami-knew-where once a week for a day of rest. When she asked where he went, he'd told Bulma once, 'to rid himself of the disgusting sights and sounds of humanity'. The other six days a week, he would rise before the sun had awoke and he'd only take breaks for lunch and dinner. He always wore his broken armor while training and only accepted 'sleeping garments' for sleeping, so his spandex-like suit and armor were washed and cleaned every night.

On occasion, Bulma would set up her reading spot closer to the ship just to watch him train between glances at her books. There was a passion that Vegeta held for training, a resolve that surged under his skin for the thirst of power he'd seen on Namek. Bulma hadn't personally seen Goku become a Super Saiyan, but if it pushed Vegeta this hard to attain it, the power must have been astounding. Today, his eyes were full of fire and craving for something greater.

Bulma knew that he was pushing himself harder on certain days because he'd come out of the GSR with a limp in his gait and she'd make some smart comment about him trying to kill himself. She knew that he'd gone through worse than the pacing he was putting his body through and knew that he'd never intentionally endanger himself, no matter how angry and brooding the Saiyan seemed. His control and determination impressed the heiress.

The man with a permanent scowl was suddenly floating outside the door where Bulma stood, a smirk softening the effect. "Like what you see, woman?"

"Glad to see that you're arrogant as usual, Oh-Mighty-Saiyan-Prince. Now come out of there and get cleaned up, dinner is nearly done," The sarcasm wasn't lost on Vegeta and he crossed his arms in belligerence.

"Why don't you come in here and make me? Or are you too feeble to even step foot in here?" From where Bulma stood on the steps leading into the ship, she could see that he was already up to 50 G-forces. The ship could only go up to 100 Gs at its maximum capacity and her father had only finished the machine three weeks prior. The man's training must've been more relentless than she realized.

"You asked for it," She smirked, and flipped open the keypad panel. After a few seconds of calculations, her fingertips pressed a combination of the buttons causing the diamagnetic field to flicker before correcting itself. However, Vegeta's form had fallen from a floating smirk to a shaking grimace.

A synthetic voice rang out inside the ship, loud enough for Bulma to make out, "… now set to seventy-five gravitational forces,"

"Bitch…" He growled, raising the hairs on the back of her neck. The proud prince stumbled as he tried to move towards the main gravity controls, and simply kneeled on the metal floor. "Change it back," It seemed even an effort for him to glare at her as sweat gathered at his temples.

"All you have to do is ask nicely, Vegeta. I'll be more than happy to turn it off," She made a show of holding her hand over the open panel, ready to shut down the machine.

"When I… g-get out of here…" He took a ragged breath but made no movement to stand, "I am going… to kill you,"

A delicate blue brow raised in cynicism as she watched Vegeta. He was about to collapse, and even in the midst of defeat, the Prince was full of pride and fearless.

"Oh, I highly doubt that Vegeta," Bulma counted to five before the next press of buttons commanded the ship to shut off. Another quick instruction of her hand and the door slid open in front of Bulma. "I mean, honestly, can you even stand?"

A few strides and she stood before him, offering her open hand to Vegeta. "Now come on, I'm starving,"

Before the blue-haired scientist realized, the glaring Saiyan grabbed her wrist and pulled the surprised woman to her knees. Vegeta wrapped an arm of iron around her abdomen as his face neared hers. "You have tested me too many times, insolent female,"

Bulma could play this version of chicken with Vegeta. They'd been pushing each other's envelopes farther each day, with the fights escalating slowly. Now, physical boundaries had been crossed, but Bulma didn't fear Vegeta nearly as much as she had before he moved in. No matter how hard her heart was beating within her chest.

She whispered, "We both know you won't kill me, Vegeta,"

"And why is that, woman? It wouldn't be that difficult, even in my current state," He emphasized his words by tightening his grip on her waist, in response she sucked in a shaky breath. He was so close, Bulma could count the drops of sweat on the bridge of his nose.

The azure genius wouldn't let him see her anxiety. "Doing anything to me will only alienate you from Earth. No one will help you, you'd be forced to leave," She offered quietly, her hands lightly pushing against his chest, an insistence that he let her go.

"Or, and this is a more appetizing thought, I think… Instead of killing you, I could blow up your precious Earth and be rid of this useless planet and it's pathetically weak people," There was no heat to his words, so Bulma had an inkling that this was some sort of sick joke to Vegeta. She wanted to turn the tables on him.

"I don't think you truly want to do that, Vegeta," She murmured, sliding her palm up from his muscled chest to his jaw. Her small thumb mapped the contour of his cheekbone, "After getting rid of Freiza, aren't you tired of repeating the past?" The prince had turned to stone at her utterance.

Unmoving, his eyes no longer gazed at her face, but at the floor, the metallic sheen reflecting his own face back at him. He was silent for what seemed like hours, just staring past her face at the ground.

The words were barely more than a whisper, "It's who I am," Stated as if it were a fact, nothing more.

"It's not who you could be," She was surprising herself with her own soft voice. Did she really think that Vegeta could change? If she were honest with herself, Bulma knew that Vegeta had already transformed much in the past six weeks. It was a gradual rehabilitation of his soul and the researcher in her wanted to see the experiment come to fruition.

His arms loosened and Bulma fell on her butt, "Leave me be, Woman. I will be accounted for at the evening meal,"

Standing, she offered her hand a second time with a small smile. "Do you need help inside?"

"I need no one's help," He was still staring at the floor, and Bulma wondered how the tiles of the floor didn't buckle under the mere scowl of Vegeta's.

She dropped the proffered hand and backed up to the door. "Right…"

* * *

Dinner, ever since Vegeta had joined them, had become a banquet of a sort, with two-thirds of the food going to the man with a black hole for a stomach. Shockingly, the meal wasn't awkward even after the incident in the Gravity Room. The royal Saiyan was ignoring his present company, per usual. Bulma was more than thankful for that as she devoured her portion of food.

Taking a break between bites, the young Briefs declared, "Dad, I want to come back to work starting next week,"

Her father glanced in her direction, "Are you sure honey? Not that the Alpha and Beta development teams couldn't use your help, but you've only been back for six weeks… Wouldn't you like to rest a slight more?"

Bulma sighed, "I'm feeling restless, just lounging around and reading on research that I could be relating to real world applications,"

Dr. Briefs and his wife chuckled at their daughter, with Bunny making the soft comment, "Just like her father, such a busy-body,"

The older man pushed up his glasses, "Well darling, I know that there's nothing I can do to stop you from coming back to work if you want, but I was going to ask if you could take over my responsibility of upgrading Capsule Ship 3's gravity diamagnetism field,"

Cerulean curls tilted in confusion, "What? Why are you upgrading it?"

"If you haven't already noticed, Vegeta here has already reached half the maximum of g-forces that it can go up to. He expressed a concern that he would soon reach 100 Gs and I told him that if I had more time, I would be able to optimize the ship to withstand 500 Gs. He asked that I perform the improvements as soon as possible, or… What was it that you said, son?"

In a rare display of bending to the human social construct, Vegeta willingly spoke. "I would systematically destroy the cleaning bots in his lab and leave their parts on the roof,"

"Ass…" Bulma muttered into her plate of food, but Vegeta's eyes cut to glare at her. She ate another forkful with feigned ignorance of his glower.

The doctor didn't seem fazed by the statement and continued, "I didn't see a problem with upgrading the ship, because I've already had the plans finished for a time, I just haven't had a free day to complete it. Will you take a look at the plans and finish it within the next few weeks, then you can come back to work whenever you'd like,"

Bulma shook her head, "Sure… I guess,"

"Woman, the gravity room will be available for you to upgrade in three days. If I require anything else of you, I will notify you," Vegeta announced before standing up and headed towards his room.

A glower surfaced on Bulma's face and her mouth opened to send the angry remark that she was no one's servant, but the muscled back of the prince was gone along with the sound of his footsteps.

Moments later.

"Can someone please tell me what possessed me to invite him to live with us? Anyone?" Her face met her palm in exasperation.

"Darling, you were only doing what you thought was best. He's just misunderstood, that's all," Her mother supplied.

"I think 'Vegeta is just misunderstood' is the understatement of the year, Mom," Bulma pushed her plate away and bid her parents good night. She had a long day ahead of her tomorrow if she was going to upgrade the GSR when Vegeta wanted it finished. She'd need to go over the blue-prints to make sure everything was correct, check to make sure she had the necessary materials and prepare a small team to help her.

Her feet padded up the stairs and straight to her room, but she stilled before going into her room, glancing down the hall at the door that led to Vegeta's room. Considering what she'd said to Vegeta in the Gravity room, he'd acted rather civilly at dinner. There hadn't been any screaming or quips about her being a 'Servant Woman' or 'Shrieking Harpy' which was his usual caliber.

Against her better judgement, Bulma walked the few extra steps down the hall and knocked on Vegeta's door. No answer. Knocking again, she pressed an ear against the wood, nothing but silence. Testing her luck again, the blue-haired scientist turned the knob and the door opened to reveal a large, empty room. Had he gone back to the ship to train more? He'd been wearing his designated 'sleeping garments' at dinner.

Crossing the boundary into Vegeta's room, she noticed that the door to his balcony was ajar, light from the night's stars illuminating a figure overlooking the grounds. Hesitating, Bulma decided that since she had come this far, it was too late to turn back. Stepping out onto the balcony, the azure-eyed woman moved to stand beside the prince.

She'd been wrong that he was looking at the estate and the sprawling city beyond it. His onyx irises were staring at the stars and planets above.

"Usually when a person doesn't answer a knock at their door, they don't want to be disturbed," His voice was softer than usual, faraway eyes settling on a particular spot in the sky. "Have you come to shriek at me in the privacy of my space?"

"I wanted to apologize… for bringing up the past," Tongue in cheek, she added, "I wouldn't want to be reminded of all the things I've lost and I'm sure you're the same way,"

"You've no idea, Earth-woman," He clenched a fist at his side, "You couldn't imagine what I've lost. So don't assume that you and I have anything in common,"

The wall that Bulma Briefs had built around her heart, she wanted to take it down. Brick by brick, she wanted to set the wall aside and attempt to help this man in front of her, this man that had probably seen more horrors than he would ever admit. The incident in the GSR and his civility at dinner showed that Bulma hadn't paid attention to the changes in the Saiyan Prince.

"Look, I know that we might never be friends or anything close to it. However, I do want you to know that you'll always be welcome here, no matter how arrogant you are," Vegeta opened his mouth to respond, but she held up a hand, "I know you don't need to hear this, but I need to say it. You may like being a lone wolf and doing your own thing, but you might need a place to stay in the future, after you've done whatever you're here for.

No one should have to worry about if they have a place to rest their head. Even knowing just part of you past, you probably haven't had anything close to a home for an incredibly long time. I don't care how long you stay for now, I know there's a reason you're here and I think it has something to do with Goku. So, anytime you're on Earth, consider this yours. Besides, you might end up liking Earth and the next time a big bad comes around, you could help out," She took a deep breath after finishing and began to go back inside, not wanting to face what she'd just said. Bulma had extended an olive branch. It was the best she could do.

"Woman, this planet is nothing to me. What I've gone through, what I've done, it's made me stronger. Alone, that's what makes a person strong and unconquerable. Attachments are simply weaknesses to be exploited. Your servitude is understood but needless," Vegeta called back to her, finally moving his head away from the sky and facing her. He wasn't angry. He was distant. Cold. Bulma could tell that his wall wasn't simply encasing his heart, but his soul. Vegeta, Prince of Saiyans, was the epitome of heartless apathy.

Bulma sighed, her olive branch thrown in her face, and headed back to the hall.

The armor on his dresser haunted her in the shadows of his room as she neared the door, turning back to the balcony, Bulma said, "After I finish the upgrades to the GSR, I'll start on creating some new armor for you, you need more than two sets of clothes,"

Stopping at the door, she turned her head and spoke, "One day, you might surprisingly decide that there might be something on Earth worth saving,"

A trademark 'Hmph' was heard from the balcony, followed by "Unlikely,"

* * *

A/N: Just to let everyone know, I'll be updating this story every Wed. afternoon. If I happen to be out of town on a certain Wednesday and the chapter is already done, I'll upload it early, if not, you'll get it Thursday afternoon. If you review, I'll give you a delicious internet cookie!


	3. Ameliorated by Resurrections

**A/N: It's wednesday! You all know what that means: a new chapter. Publishing it early today because I'm not sure after working a long day that I'll remember to post it when I get home tonight. Enjoy!**

* * *

Chapter 3: Ameliorated by Resurrections

_"I am going to tell you a secret. Everything is about wanting. Everything. Things happen because of people wanting. Watch closely, and you'll see what I mean."_

It had been exactly one-hundred-thirty-days since she'd come back from Namek. Most days up to this point were filled with arguments between Vegeta and Bulma, the latter storming off to work in her lab, the former continuing to shove himself towards a greater power.

On occasion, Chichi and Gohan visited the Brief's household. Bulma would chat with Chichi as Gohan would train with Vegeta for a bit. It surprised to both women that Gohan had even asked to train with the older Saiyan, and even more astonishing that Vegeta had agreed to spar outside the GSR with the boy. The girls saw the pair meditating once or twice, which piqued Bulma's interest. Vegeta had informed her that "The third-class' brat informed me how to sense energies. He is not as pathetic as his father,"

Vegeta was always fascinated by the way blood bloomed at the woman's cheeks and her hair seemed to bristle when he got under her skin. He considered this the highest form of entertainment he knew that Earth offered.

Bulma was not amused.

Rarely, Vegeta disappeared from the grounds of Capsule Corporation. Bulma took special advantage of those opportunities, having the Namekians along with the Z gang –the exceptions being those waiting to be resurrected – invited over for a party, other times she would have coworkers over to present more ideas for their R&D teams to work on in the future. A powerful, brooding Saiyan on the premises was ill-suited to the now hectic life of Bulma Briefs, Vice President of Capsule Corporation.

Then came the 130th day.

The Namekians sauntered from the woods beyond most of the larger buildings – where Bulma had set up a dozen-or-so capsule houses for them to live in – gathering in a crowd. She had been surprised at how easily they had adapted to living on Earth, with a tranquility that Bulma herself had never been familiar with. She envied them at moments, watching the viridian men in spare time, enjoying the fresh air as they took walks through the enormous estate.

Once assembled together, the elders had brought the hefty dragonballs to the center of their crowd. Bulma smiled down at Dende, the young Namekian that she considered more than an acquaintance. "Ready, Dende?"

Before he could respond, a sudden parting amidst the wave of emerald people interrupted his speech. A tousle of rustling robes, murmuring voices, and the figure emerging was none other than Vegeta. Bulma scowled, crossing her arms, but Vegeta did nothing but glance at her, smirking as he took in her appearance. The amused look on the Saiyan's face had the blue scientist belatedly realizing that she mirrored the Prince herself, and dropped her arms.

"Well isn't it pleasant to see you today, Vegeta,"

Absent of formality or greetings, Vegeta seemed on edge as he asked, "Did you finally realize that your hair was disgusting in spherical form? I see you've managed to tame it into something less fucking ridiculous,"

The Prince of Saiyans knew exactly how to perturb Bulma; she let out an angry breath before she stepped closer to him, flipping her now-straightened blue tresses over her shoulder.

"Vegeta… You better go stand somewhere far, far away from me, otherwise the first thing I'm telling Goku when he gets here is to kick your ass so hard, you'll wake up in another solar system," Bulma threatened quietly. A set of glares – one icy blue, the other midnight fire – stood off for a few seconds before Vegeta stalked back towards his turf, the crowd giving him a wide berth.

"Sorry about that Dende," It seemed that Vegeta still enjoyed riling up fear and animosity wherever he roamed.

Moments later, Chichi and Gohan arrived. They chatted for a scarce moment before giving Dende the signal to raise the Dragon. Every soul excited to see the person triumphant against Freiza.

Within minutes, Krillin stood before the crowd and along with him came a new understanding the dragon had imparted. Goku wasn't dead, he had escaped Namek before it had blown. He had made it. Tears formed in Bulma's eyes as she listened to the littlest Namekian wish for Goku to return to Earth.

Seconds later, a voice like booming thunder responded, "This cannot be done. The one you call Goku does not wish to come back to Earth, I will not go against his wishes. He says that he will return later,"

Bulma hadn't been staring up at the dragon while he spoke, her eyes on Chichi. The woman's face had gone from an exuberant expression to one of devastation within mere seconds. Gohan's face hadn't changed much, but his small form coiled tight, like a spring about to snap.

Why wouldn't the Savior of Earth want to return? What could exist out there in the Universe that was more important than his family and friends? Bulma ran multiple possibilities through her mind, but none stood out to her that would make Goku want to stay away from Earth, the one planet that had been his home – the place he'd defended for so long.

Looking away from the Son household, Bulma's gaze wavered over a figure in the far distance. Voices around her spoke while she watched the angry form of Vegeta stare at the ground for a second before his head snapped up and his eyes met hers. What Bulma saw took her breath away, as if the culmination of Vegeta's tortured patience had been all for naught. The anger she saw in the depths of his dark orbs was akin to betrayal, she gulped before having to turn away.

"-Don't worry Gohan, your father will keep his word," Piccolo had finished saying as Bulma tuned back in to the discussion happening around her.

As she opened her mouth to reassure the young boy, a huge eruption went off behind the group, deafening everyone. Every head turned to watch Capsule Ship 3 shoot off into the sky, with Dr. and Mrs. Briefs seemingly unconcerned that their only functional spaceship had been stolen, possibly never to be seen again.

"Fucking-dirty-ass-monkey-prince-bastard…" Bulma ticked off the rest of her cursing in rapid succession, what she strung together kept to herself, nothing more than breath on the wind.

The youngest Briefs knew why Vegeta had taken off to the stars: He wanted to find Goku. She'd been right, the only reason why he had stayed on Earth was to wait for Goku's return. Vegeta would probably be gone until he found Goku or ran out of fuel. The Royal Pain in her ass likely preferred to run out of fuel before touching upon the planet again.

Secretly, she hoped the man found her best friend, but the universe was a big place and statistics betted against him, the likeliest happenstance being that Vegeta would run out of supplies first before finding Goku.

"Forget him," Piccolo remarked, "Don't you have some friends you want to wish back?"

"Oh right!" A surge of overwhelming joy hit Bulma as she realized that they could wish one of their friends back sooner than expected. The feeling bloomed into a warm cheerfulness when they had decided to wish Yamcha back.

For a minute, Bulma truly believe that Porunga had managed to get away without actually resurrecting Yamcha, but a splash later and Puar happily hugging on the former-bandit.

His name fell from her lips, "Yamcha…"

"Hey Bulma, you're looking better than ever…" His devil-may-care smile melted her heart all over again, and she took in his form, exactly the same as it had been when she'd wished him good luck before leaving to meet the Saiyans.

As the Namekians departed back towards their woodland homes, the Z Gang celebrated, albeit the merriment dampened slightly by the dark thoughts that Goku hadn't wanted to return.

* * *

As the day wore into night, the azure genius found herself beside the strongest woman on Earth, at least in Bulma's opinion. Along with physical strength, Chichi's unbroken spirit that thrived even after continuous trials proved that the woman remained a force to be reckoned with.

The raven haired woman asked, "Do you think he'll find him?"

"I dunno, Chi, but if he does, I'm sure he'll contact me," If she was honest with herself, Bulma didn't know that Vegeta would even care to contact her at all, preferring solitary confinement to any social gathering. However, the blue-eyed woman said it to quell her friend's worries.

"I can't believe that he didn't want to come back… to see me and Gohan," Chichi's voice held a tremble – Bulma prayed that the woman wouldn't have a complete breakdown in the Brief's backyard.

"Chichi, I'm sure that he has a really good reason for not coming back right away," She offered, "Maybe there's something important that he needs to do and he'll tell us about it when he gets back," Bulma was actually rather pissed herself that her oldest friend hadn't given Porunga any sort of explanation or even an estimated day of arrival.

"Something more important than his family? Bulma… We both know what Goku is like, and it could be any simple adventure that he would prefer to go on than staying home. My husband is probably off gallivanting across the galaxy," A heat of anger laced Chichi's words and the woman sitting beside her had no response.

Bulma did the only thing she could think of; she put her arm around Chichi's shoulders, giving her as much comfort as she could. Tears glistened on the younger woman's cheeks, a soft sniffling at her nose. Minutes passed as the pair stared up at the sky, both waiting on the return of two most alien men.

"Do you really think Vegeta will let you know if he's found Goku?" The tears wiped away, none replaced their spots upon Chichi's cheeks.

Bulma did nothing more than chuckle at Chichi's question.

"Yeah, I didn't think so. He's incredibly arrogant and self-serving, I don't know how you put up with a menace like that in your house," The disdain that Chichi had in her voice disturbed Bulma the slightest bit.  
"I think that he's had to act that way his whole life, because anything different got him punished. Functioning the way he does is the only way he understands how to survive, Chi," Bulma sighed, "But he's still a handful either way. I sort of hope that he finds Goku and makes his grand discovery so that he doesn't have to come back here,"

She'd still make the replicas of the Saiyan armor, just in case.

Bulma removed her arm from around the younger woman as she yawned, "Man, I didn't realize how late it is,"

"You're right, I should take Gohan home, he's got a lot of studying to do tomorrow," Chichi said as she stood, "Thanks for having everyone over again. I hope next time we have a party like this, Goku'll be here,"

"Me too, Chi,"

Bulma let the starlight cast her face in a glow, watching the dark sky for a few moments before bidding everyone a goodbye. She was torn in two: one part hoping for the best, one part wanting the worst.

Later that night, the grounds of Capsule Corporation laid dark, only dewdrops in the grass glistened. Inside the grand home, a desert bandit reacquainted himself with the flesh of a blue-haired goddess. She gasped, then sighed contentedly in the shadows, all the while a pair of onyx eyes set with determined passion haunted her mind.

* * *

Perhaps she wasn't ready to become the President of Capsule Corporation yet, but Bulma Briefs had been making impressive strides.

She managed to wake up early most mornings, go for a run while the sun woke the sky, avoiding the paparazzi that stalked outside the gates of her home. Then she'd put in a good amount of hours at the downtown C.C. Headquarters, either in her lab or with the Alpha and Beta teams. Most days she would still have time for hanging out with Yamcha or any of the Z Gang. On her days off, she'd spend her day tinkering with a special project, or working on the promised Saiyan armor.

The Saiyan-style armor was nearly complete. Bulma didn't have a Saiyan around to try it on, so she'd decided to create a female version to fit on herself, testing the flexibility against the durability of the synthetic fibers she'd created. A negative correlation existed between the elasticity of the material versus how much force it could endure. The under-suit had been the most difficult to replicate, but after multiple batches, Bulma though that she finally had it. The suit she'd been testing for the past week seemed to be the closest she could achieve to the original without traveling back into space and hunting down an abandoned armory formerly owned by Freiza.

She'd been testing the suits out by running in them, wearing the chest plate over the spandex-like suit to make sure the plate material stayed supple enough to not impede movement. The heiress of Capsule Corp. looked ridiculous running while appearing like one of Freiza's henchmen, but a certain Saiyan Prince wasn't there to mock her, so she didn't care much.

Every morning that she ran, each foot pounding upon the pavement scarce with the glow of the sunrise, her mind raced faster than her body could ever possibly hope to. When Bulma had first picked up running, her father had pointed out that the cadence of her pace would speed up or slow down depending on how excited she was about her current project.

Lately, she'd been pondering the Quantum Field Theory again. A difficult notion to grasp, but Bulma felt compelled to run headfirst into any scientific obstacles that she'd ever found in her way. Any time a concept or theory eluded the great Bulma Briefs, she would hit the books day and night until she understood the fundamentals behind it. Eventually she would fully comprehend the idea and have a major breakthrough, usually resulting in a new product for the company.

A thrum in the back of her brain had her feeling that she was onto something huge. Bulma sprinted back towards the house as her thoughts drifted towards how different her work and personal life had become. It seemed there stood another negative correlation in her life. She thrived at work, being the Vice-President of C.C. and having two R&D teams at her beck and call.

Her personal life on the other hand, had taken a nosedive – astounding her – as Yamcha was back from the dead. The first couple of weeks he had been there every day. She'd enjoyed it at first, laughing and taking comfort in his light-hearted antics. Nowadays, it seemed more childish to her than adorable.

She'd tried spending more private time with him, away from Puar and the others, but any conversation they had eventually veered to the subject of sports or the return of Goku. A simple explanation of her work at C.C. would leave Yamcha with a blank expression of boredom, confusion or a mix of the two.

Sure, he'd talked about taking back his spot on the West City Baseball team and he started renting a nice apartment downtown, but Bulma couldn't help but feel like…

Something was missing.

The full-out sprint had become nothing more than a cool-down jog back home, the suit had held up remarkably. It didn't chafe and remained light and breathable while wicking away sweat.

Could it be that Bulma Briefs actually missed the presence of one conceited houseguest?

"This is ridiculous," She spoke to herself, while striding up the wide walkway to the house. "I'm glad that arrogant ass is gone,"

Maybe she should call up Yamcha and see if he has practice tonight. She needed to get out of the house. Otherwise, she faced another night of sitting in her lab, tinkering with something trivial until she felt tired enough to sleep.

* * *

He would become legendary, at any cost, he swore it.

His muscles had become more accustomed to feeling sore than not, as sweat perspired almost continuously as the Prince trained day and night. Even as his body screamed for a reprieve, the sharp edge of his mind cut away thoughts that drained his motivation. All that was left was thirst.

Stars whipped by, constellations passing at the speed of light, the entire majesty of space lost on the prince while the bright power grasping for something greater consumed the man. He moved through Katas, each execution of the moves succinct. He struggled every moment, but each time the number rose higher, the Saiyan swore that he tasted the legendary on the tip of his tongue.

Vegeta was grateful to get off that insipid planet with its people that obsessed with staying calm in the face of anything, whilst he seethed inside and out with the injustice of the galaxy. The silence he exhibited throughout his time on the crust of that forsaken world had only fueled his rage at the idiotic sentiments of its people. They should count themselves lucky he hadn't destroyed it the minute he had taken off.

The woman known as Bulma was the only person that had seemed to be herself entirely and she was the only one that Vegeta deemed tolerable enough to stand. She didn't back down from a fight, he admired that. She was never deceitful, a fiery honesty flowed from her lips. Perhaps that was why Vegeta had spared Earth. The woman had offered up her home as a sort of residence for the Prince, and it intrigued him.

She was the solitary being in the universe – since Freiza had destroyed his homeworld – that stood up to the Royal Saiyan. She did so without fear, without reservations and even seemed to seek him out at moments. Vegeta didn't want to admit it to himself, but he was interested in the female, even if it was only a slight fascination with her bold behavior.

At the moment he had more pressing matters to attend to. He needed to gain the power of the Legendary, to quell the fury that Vegeta had kept inside himself at the aberrant knowledge of what happened on Namek.

A third-class nothing had bested the Prince of his own race. It was shameful.

The man had even defeated Vegeta's greatest enemy, Freiza. The icy alien that had tortured, maimed, patronized and destroyed the Prince's pride and soul, along with extinguishing the life of Planet Vegeta. It had been his destiny and _his alone_, but Kakkarrot had stolen everything from him.

It was inexcusable.

A thousand nameless faces haunted him while he slept, the faces of his people. His people that would never again know the touch of a red sun, or the smell in the air before the heat of battle. These people had been his to protect, his to lead and he had _failed_. He swore to himself that he could not let Kakkarrot continue to best him.

The third-class had taken his legend, his destiny, his _pride_ and it had been nearly as damning as when Freiza had done it the countless times before. Vegeta cursed the man that had seized so much from him, leaving him to live with the Earthlings. Kakkarrot would pay for making him deal with those inferior for so long.

He assured himself that once he reached the peak of 100 G-forces while training, he would have to closing in on Kakarrot's power. Then, when he found the low life, he would take him on in a fight that would decide who was truly the most powerful.

Vegeta's determination would not let him leave the fight as anything less than the victor.

He already trained at 65 Gs, he would certainly be at 100 Gs within a month or two. Then he'd show everyone who had the power.

If he didn't run out of fuel first.

Thankfully the ship had been full of supplies, including similar sleeping garments that he'd been given by the Briefs Family. He'd set the coordinates in for Namek before he'd shot off Earth. He'd be reaching there in less than a week. The final fight remained as the best place to start looking for the younger Saiyan, and then he'd go from there.

He wondered what emotion the woman's face contorted into when he took off into space. An amused smirk formed on his lips, and he bet that she probably had gone through a list of swear words that would impress even him. Snorting, he knew that dwelling on the past wouldn't change the present, or the future for that matter. He needed to find Kakkarott.

In the meantime, he'd continue grasping at the golden flames of the Legendary. He felt as if he sat upon the cusp of glory, a little more pushing and he'd have it…

* * *

Bulma ended up alone that evening.

She tidied her lab, counters free of mess, a wonder to everyone, including herself. Her mother and father had both been down to check on her at separate times. Bulma certainly wasn't lonely. Did she seem lonely? Because she wasn't, if that's what people thought. She sat contentedly at her desk, drafting up plans of a new form of capsule. Linear drawings strewn across her desk, a pair of blue eyes skimming the sketches before blinking, dark lashes heavy with sleep.

Secretly, the longer Vegeta stayed away, the closer Bulma came to hoping that he would contact her about something. She knew that Saiyans by nature seemed to thrive even alone, the Prince of them least of all, but she also knew that being in self-contained captivity wasn't healthy for anyone. Imagine if she had left Goku all alone in that forest when she'd first met him – that wouldn't have turned out well.

Picking up her weary bones, she decided to give him a week.

If Vegeta didn't contact her in a week, she'd give him a call. Just to check on him.

It wasn't because she missed him or anything. How could she when all he ever did enraged, frustrated and upset her? Although he had been rather easy to get along with at certain times, when he opened up. At least more entertaining than Yamcha in his current state, but Bulma hoped to remedy that quickly.

Bulma didn't miss the Saiyan Prince. Not at all.

* * *

**A/N: So, this is the first chapter that's even been edited before being posted. Can anyone tell a difference between this chapter and the others? The true plot of this fic will begin to emerge next chapter, but this was a necessary evil to write. And it seems that my chapters are just getting longer and longer…**

**Fun fact: The reading level of this fanfic happens to be a 56.98. That means that people in the 10****th**** grade or higher should be able to easily understand it. I'm sure that will probably change in the future.**


	4. The Halcyon Homologate

Chapter 4: The Halcyon Homologate

"_Don't quit. Suffer now and live the rest of your life as a champion."_

Barred from the room by a massive door, Bulma wondered how many the room could hold. Pressing the delicate shell of her ear against the door, the heiress could make out the murmurs of multiple voices. She chastised herself for acting like she was eight again, for not knowing how many seats there were, having held meetings in this same conference room. Pushing herself off the door, nervous hands smoothed the skirt of her navy suit and she swore under her breath.

In minutes, her father would announce that Bulma Briefs would be helping him to carry the responsibility of President of Capsule Corporation. They would be considered Co-Presidents for a few months while Bulma interned under her father, before fully understanding everything that would involve her leading a legacy into greatness.

Leading a Legacy. That's what she named the speech she'd prepared.

The blue-haired scientist only hoped that the room could sense her alacrity and welcome her into the fold. When she was younger, most of the older cortege of the company directors had disapproved of the choice for her to be put on the Alpha development team when she was only 20. To her satisfaction, Bulma had proven herself to be more than resourceful, not only revolutionizing many projects still being researched, but also coming up with new models and products to make C.C. a true household name.

The low rumbling of her father's voice managed to elicit a few gasps behind the tightly closed doors, and her heart seized. She whispered to it that they would make it through this. She could do this, Bulma told her heart. _She could do this._

It was the time of reckoning.

The room opened to her, and a small, professional smile was painted upon her face. Taking a deep breath, the walk to the podium where her father stood seemed like an eternity of her heels tapping along the floor. The proud beam of his smile ameliorated her heartbeat. Despite this small reassurance, the soon-to-be President felt lightheaded, her palms sticky with anxiousness.

Arriving at the podium, her eyes roved over the crowd. Every board member was present, along with many of the higher-up employees, even a crowd of reporters showed up. She gulped silently, looking over to her father, nodding to him. Dr. Briefs spoke once more before stepping away from the stand, "Ladies and Gentlemen, may I present your new President of Capsule Corporation, Bulma Briefs,"

Her lungs felt tight, as if she couldn't breathe deeply enough to calm herself. The young Briefs took a moment to compose herself, then began her speech. "Good afternoon everyone, I want to thank you all for being here on this momentous occasion. It has been my lifelong dream to continue leading this mesmerizing legacy that my father began so many years ago. When he began this company long ago, before I was born, he started with nothing more than a dream and the determination to see it through to the end. He has much to teach me, and I will do everything in my power to learn all that it takes to make this company even more successful in our future endeavors.

I know that this is a huge task that I am taking on, and I will not lie to you, I am unsure of the prospects ahead of us. We have competitors in every corner, vying to control the markets that we excel in. However, I will do everything in my power to keep our company on top. I know that I'm not as proficient as my father, but one day I hope to be. My courage is not the absence of fear, but rather the judgment that something is more important than fear. The brave may not live forever, but the cautious do not live at all.

So, it is with great pleasure that I take up the mantle in leading Capsule Corporation. My father will be here for as long as I deem necessary, aiding me as needed until he steps down. He has built an empire that has blessed millions with a technology beyond our imagination. I believe he deserves a long and happy retirement. Thank you for giving me this opportunity to speak with you all today," Bulma leaned back from the mic, glancing over at her father. Even as the spotlights were on her, the daughter of Dr. Briefs could swear that she saw the glimmer of tears on the man's wrinkled cheeks.

Silence permeated the room for a few poignant moments.

As Bulma looked back at the crowd and clasped her hands in front of her. It was done. Instantaneously, the room erupted into applause. A true smile found its way onto Bulma's face and she bowed before backing up. Shouting from random news crews accompanied sets of raised hands, and the azure heiress couldn't make out any of the questions thrown at her. Her father scurried up to the podium, "We will be holding a press conference later on in the day for any questions that you'd like to ask our new president. You are dismissed,"

The crowd began to disassemble themselves, and the microphone went silent. The eldest Briefs corralled the younger one into the room from which she exited. Closing the door, he spoke, "I'm so proud of you, sweetie,"

Bulma flung her arms around her father, "Thanks dad! I won't say that it wasn't absolutely nerve-wracking, but I'm excited to start this transition. You and mom totally deserve to spend these next few years relaxing, not that you aren't welcome back anytime,"

Her father chuckled, "We're having a party tonight to celebrate your promotion, the CFO will be there along with a few others that I'd like you to meet, but we'll talk about your new responsibilities tomorrow,"

"Thanks again dad, I'll see you at the press conference?"

"I wouldn't miss it for the world, dear," He ran a hand through his lavender cut before heading towards the private elevators that the senior staff exclusively used. "In the meantime, why don't you take a look at your new office and lab quarters? They're just down the hall from mine on the fiftieth floor. I think you'll find them to be much roomier than the ones located on the R&D floors. I'll have security come by and help you move your things, Dr. Briefs,"

She preened at his use of her proper title, and nodded to him, "See you tonight,"

* * *

Namek was just as he thought it would be. Nothing more than asteroids and clouds of dust.

He could still make out frozen land from the larger sections that hadn't been completely destroyed by Freiza. It stirred a familiar sense of loss within the bowels of Vegeta, his heart clenching at the sight.

The scene sent him reeling back into the deep past, seeing Nappa standing in front of him, towering over his smaller form. The long shadow told him nothing more than that a huge meteor shower hit Planet Vegeta and it had been destroyed. The Saiyans were taken by surprise by the act of God, there had been few survivors.

Vegeta remembered how he felt inept at dealing with his feelings that day. How out of control he'd been, how angry. His father had been forced to give him up to a tyrant, and then fate had seen to it that he'd suffer the life of an endangered species. The Prince of Nothing, is what Freiza had called him for weeks afterwards.

Once Vegeta had been given a longer leash, allowing for more leave between purgings, he'd actually followed Nappa in their ships to the remnants of his homeworld. The dust had been sanguine – so vivid it was as if the planet had bled with each impact – and a few ruins were still visibly floating in the vastness of space.

That's when it had hit him.

The fact that Vegeta would truly, always, forever be alone.

He was slated for a lonely life of struggle. Looking at the skeleton of his planet, Vegeta himself became a shell. Nothing more than an empty vessel of what could-have-been.

Now he lived for nothing more than power. Power was the one thing no one could take away from you. He could hold it within his grasp, utilize it as he wished without troubles. He learned from a young age that power was all that truly matter. Survival of the fittest.

Vegeta had wonderfully and fearfully become one of the strongest fighters in the universe. Now, he was determined to obtain the greatest power that was known in space.

Tirelessly, he worked his body to exhaustion, increasing the gravity until he was sure his vascular system struggled to continue functioning.

Vegeta was determined to have the greatest. _He would have it._ It was just a matter of time.

Not finding Kakarrott didn't perturb him, he knew that the man would have needed supplies, fuel and to rest after fighting the icy tyrant of Vegeta's past. The prince would simply have to systematically locate and contact the sapient planets in the vicinity. He was sure that Kakarrott would stick out and someone would know where to find him.

Athough the third-class did defeat Freiza, even in the face of knowing it had been Vegeta's right to kill the slimy bastard, Vegeta couldn't help but feel a measure of pride knowing that Freiza had met his death at the hands of a Saiyan.

It made seeing the bones of Namek less unsettling.

Now, all Vegeta had to do was find Kakarrott and have him reveal the secret to becoming Legendary. Turning away from the view outside, the Royal Saiyan knew he had work to do.

* * *

He had managed to do it. It had taken him four months, but he'd gotten a job at Capsule Corporation, passed the initial examinations and worked his way to being a prominent figure at the downtown headquarters. Darius Stark at Pod Corporation would be pleased when he retold him of his latest achievement.

If all went as planned, Pod Corporation would soon have a leg up on the competition, and it was all thanks to him. Yes, Darius would be pleased indeed with the dark gentleman.

He'd managed to find out the custodial staff's schedule and work around it, placing small cameras in key locations for him to monitor the comings and goings of the higher-ups in the company. The cameras were incredibly easy to hide, simply high-powered infrared cameras that didn't need to receive sound. No one would be the wiser.

Stepping into his apartment, the sparseness of the space only accentuated the fact that the far wall was covered in small screens. Setting a few of his things down and taking off his sports coat, he walked over to the wall of dark, reflective surfaces and typed in a few keys at the board.

Watching the screens flicker to life, the man's heart jumped in sinister elation. Everything had gone smoothly. Whenever he was home, he'd be able to watch the hallways and office entrances anytime and if he was away, the machines would record every facet of the company's livelihood. He'd learn the habits of every CEO, CFO and VIP in minute detail. When they left, when they came in.

Once he knew all that he needed to, then the gentleman would strike.

He'd find the weakest link and exploit it for everything that he could. He would burn the Capsule Corp. to the ground, if possible.

Darius Stark had promised him millions in return. All he needed to do was work there for a year or two, learn every little dirty secret, and feed it back to the Pod Corporation. He would enjoy every greedy moment. It was the least he could do with how they'd treated him the first time he worked at the 'awe-inspiring' Capsule Corporation.

Leaving the monitors on, he stalked towards the bathroom. For now, he had a rather special party to attend. He was definitely looking forward to meeting the new President. The knowledge that Bulma Briefs would unwittingly meet the man in charge of her company's demise gave him a shiver of sickening delight.

The gentleman wondered how he would introduce himself to the lovely heiress.

* * *

On the sixth ring, her boyfriend picked up. Bulma almost thought that it would go to voicemail. It had the first two times, anyway.

"Hey Babe, how's it going?" Yamcha answered.

There was a lot of noise in the background, people conversing, the rustle of clothes, low ambient music. He must've been in a restaurant of some sort. It was noon, so he was probably having lunch.

"Hey Yamcha! My dad just announced my promotion at our business meeting this morning," Bulma gushed.

"That's great, B!" Yamcha said, he paused for a second before continuing, as if he were in the midst of something. "I'm so happy for you, I know that this is something you've wanted to do for a long time,"

"Yeah, I was nervous at first but now it's pretty exciting. What're you up to?" She could tell Yamcha was preoccupied by the way he'd paused and the hushed tone he used.

"Actually, I'm having lunch with Freddy Hein, you know, the coach of the West City Taitans? I'm with my agent and we're drawing up a contract for me to begin training with the team this year and possibly starting next year," He proudly announced.

"That's great!" It would inevitably mean more baseball conversation at dinner, but at least it was something for Yamcha to do other than train and hang out at the C.C. compound. "Well, I know this is last minute, but I wanted to invite you to this party my dad surprised me with earlier today. It's just a Promotion Party for me tonight, just some of the higher-ups. It'll give me a chance to get to meet the board directors I haven't spoken to informally yet,"

A long pause.

"Babe, I'd love to- it's just, the guys I know on the team want to take me out for a sort of welcome back party tonight, you understand," The bandit ended up being the star batter on the team when he'd first joined, and Bulma knew it'd be a huge hassle for him to try and reschedule to meet up with a crowd of people rather than turning a single person down.

Granted, he was turning down Bulma Briefs, but she couldn't blame him. It had been a last minute notice.

"Totally, it was short notice. Besides, you'd probably be bored out of your mind," She offered up the excuse, giving him an out.

"Exactly my thinking," Yamcha agreed. Bulma stiffened at his easy brush-off of her promotion, but his following words perked her up. "Listen, how about I take you out tomorrow night, just you and me, as a sort of our own private celebration?"

"That's sounds great, Yamcha. Pick me up around six tomorrow night?"

He chuckled, "It's a date. Talk to you later, Babe!"

"Yeah, and have fun tonight!"

It was an odd feeling – being rather unaffected by her boyfriend turning her down – that Bulma felt. Probably sensory overload from her promotion had left her well of emotions tapped dry for the day. Besides, they'd have dinner tomorrow night and talk about their exciting days in private.

For now, Bulma Briefs had quite the to-do list for the day before her party.

* * *

**A/N: I actually wrote part of this chapter while I was well-oiled (read: inebriated). Then I kept writing and it went from around 3k words to over 5k. So, I split it in two. That means that I already have the next chapter written! Also it gives me a bit of a buffer as I continue writing the 6****th**** chapter. If I continually have to split chapters in half, I may just let them end up being 5k-6k word chapters. We'll see how it goes!**

**Fun Fact: This fanfic will be a sort of slowmance. As much of one as we can get with Vegeta, anyway. Who here loves a good slowmance? **


	5. Floccinaucinihilipilification

Chapter 5: Floccinaucinihilipilification

_"Just remember, you need to wait until he's finished working to ask him. He can get very angry if his work is interrupted. And we don't want him angry. "_

After holding the press conference, answering tons of questions and going over her new duties with her father, Bulma was feeling a little more than overwhelmed. On top of all that, she realized that her current outfit wouldn't be nice enough for a business formal party. Thankfully, her father and mother had collaborated on this surprise event, and her mother had sent over a hairstylist along with an outfit that she'd ordered specifically for the night. It was the perfect blend of professional and sexy. Bulma knew that she got her impeccable taste from her mother.

Sitting in the stylist's chair amidst her office's private bathroom, she watched the man set pinwheel curls in her hair, before pulling all of her hair up into a pile at the crown of her head. A few curls framed her face, but overall it was perfect. The hairdresser helped her into the Bunny-Briefs-Approved dress and Bulma turned to the mirror, smiling at her reflection. It was a black cocktail dress that clung to every curve, stopping just above her knees. A shawl and a pair of sensible black pumps completed the look. Her appearance helped ease the knot that sat in the pit of her stomach.

She still felt a little queasy.

Sure, she was a genius _at certain things._ This particular event would hold every important person that her company employed. Her Company. The largest company in the eastern hemisphere and she was going to be running her by herself. Was she crazy?

Oh God, she was going to be sick.

Taking a deep breath, her hands clasped together tightly. _I will not throw up, I will not throw up, I will not throw up._ Apparently, mind was over matter and she felt the nausea let up slightly. She could do this. Her father built this company from the ground up, and she had watched it flourish her entire life. She just had to keep calm and take this one day at a time.

Thanking the stylist before he left, Bulma checked her watch. Half an hour until the party started. She absently wished that Yamcha was there, if nothing more to crack a joke and take her mind off the task of meeting the big-wigs of the company. He was great at soothing her nerves.

The bathroom door opened behind her and Bulma jumped before seeing her dad, looking out of place while dressed in a tux, reflecting in the mirror. "Dad! You almost made me mess up this gorgeous dress,"

The Capsule Corporation heiress thought this was a great way to say she'd almost shit herself.

Dr. Briefs chuckled, "You can thank your mom for that when we get to the party. I'm here to escort my beautiful daughter to her promotion party," He held out his arm and she took it.

With the slightest hesitation in her step, Bulma let the older Briefs guide her to the elevator and down a few floors.

* * *

A pair of large, wooden French doors opened by two doormen beckoned the pair into the ballroom. Bulma found herself at the entrance of a large ballroom, with a wall of nothing but windows with an astonishing skyline-view of West City. The dance hall was decorated in blue and yellow, Capsule Corporation colors, extravagant floral arrangements and long buffet tables littering the room. The heiress clutched her shawl closer to her when she saw that there were hundreds of people crowded in the room.

"May I present to the crowd the lady of the evening, Miss Bulma Briefs!" Her father called out. His usually quiet voice was surprisingly able to bellow over the noise of the opulent masses.

Bulma kept her welcoming speech much like her namesake – brief, "Thank you, everyone, for attending this wonderful party that my father has pleasantly surprised me with. It really warms me to know that each and every one of you supports this promotion. Without further ado, let the celebration commence!"

Applause broke out throughout the large room and the newly-donned-President blushed before moving further into the room. Her father, surprisingly adept at these parties, brought Bulma to a spot on the floor that seemed reserved for the two of them. She'd only uttered 'Hello' and 'Thank you' a dozen or so times while walking through the crush of people.

"Short, sweet and to the point, just like my princess," Bulma's mother gushed, smiling as she stood by a gaggle of older women, all crooning similar sentiments.

"Thanks Mom," Bunny and her daughter exchanged a quick hug, the older one beaming at the younger.

"It's a shame that Yamcha couldn't come, he'll regret it when he sees this number!" Bunny's exclamation made the group of women twitter in amusement, but Bulma shrugged.

"It was last minute, I'm actually surprised that Dad didn't mention it to him before," Now that she was thinking about it, her parents were usually pretty mindful of inviting her friends to anything that involved Bulma.

"Oh, I could've sworn I had said something to him…" Bunny tapped her chin a few times, a thoughtful look on her face. "Oh well! Enjoy your party, my angel! I'm sure you'll have a fabulous time anyway,"

The young Briefs glanced over to her father, "Dad, did you say anything to Yamcha about this party?"

Scratching his head, Dr. Briefs spoke, "I believe I did, dear. I don't think I mentioned the date to him, but I'm your mother did…"

"It doesn't matter," Bulma sighed, "Speaking of selfish men, have you heard from Vegeta at all?"

"He hasn't yet tried to call, but he's still got plenty of fuel left in the ship. I'm sure he'll contact us if anything of importance happens,"

Hesitating for a moment, Bulma admitted to her father, "I made a note to touch base with him tonight if he hadn't tried to contact us first, I want to know what he's found out so far,"

Her father gazed at her through his glasses, and then carefully spoke, "Bulma, a man sometimes needs his space. He seemed pretty upset that Goku didn't want to come back to Earth. That gives me the idea that Vegeta had been waiting this entire time just for Goku to return. If you end up calling him, try to be a little understanding of the predicament that Vegeta's in and how he feels,"

"W-what? Dad, do you realize what you're saying? Vegeta… Having feelings?" The young scientist shook her head, "He's just upset that he 'wasted precious time' on this planet,"

"Let me tell you something my dear," Dr. Briefs took Bulma's hands into his own and sighed. "One night, I stayed late in my lab, Vegeta happened to have a question about the GSR in the ship, and in his own way - told me that while on Namek, he'd found out that Freiza was actually the one to destroy his planet. He was very young when it happened, from what I could tell. It seemed to really bother him, but he left before I could ask him about it,"

The azure woman was stunned silent as her father pulled his hands from her grasp. The warm palm of her father touched her bare shoulder.

"All I'm saying honey, is that Vegeta has been through things that we probably couldn't even fathom. He has a temper and his past is a complicated one. Just attempt to be nice when you're talking to him, especially if he's in a mood,"

Raising a brow, Bulma's reluctance was evident as she spoke, "Okay, Dad. I'm not promising anything, but I'll try to be a little less… forceful,"

Dr. Briefs smiled, "That's my girl, now I have one person that you have to meet before you can go off and mingle with the masses," With the gentle guidance only a father could have, he led Bulma through the throngs of people towards a pair of men.

They were standing close, one speaking quickly to the other. The man speaking was considerably older than his counterpart, who seemed meek in comparison. The older gentleman was dressed in full formal wear, whereas his assistant – Bulma could've only guessed from the older man quietly barking at the youth – was dressed in business casual. As the Briefs came closer, the men took notice of their presence and perked up immediately.

"Well if it isn't the new President Briefs! It is a pleasure to finally meet you in person!" The older gentleman spoke in a softer tone than he had previously with his assistant. His gray hair flew about his head in wisps, giving the impression of a cloud that permanently dwelt above his brows.

"Yes, it's truly an honor, Miss Briefs," The young man gave a slight bow before shuffling back behind his boss. Bulma smiled kindly at the pair and reached out to shake both of their hands.

"It's so very nice to meet you…" The heiress trailed off, realizing her father had failed to properly introduce the pair.

The older gentleman eagerly stuck out his hand, offering up his name, "Jonathan Morris, Miss Briefs. I'm the CFO of the company, I think we've met once before at a board meeting, though I'm hardly surprised you don't remember me. At that time you were just come back from a long sabbatical,"

"I look forward to working with you on the business end of things. And you are…?" Bulma turned her attention to the younger man.

He seemed surprised that she noticed him, his words stammering, "Oh… I-I'm Todd Brown, Mr. Morris' Chief Assistant," He gave Bulma a limp handshake, but she encouraged him to speak up with a calm smile.

"It's an absolute pleasure to meet you, Todd. I'm sure you're quite the asset to Mr. Morris," Her words managed to send a flush across Todd's cheeks.

Her father finally entered the conversation, "I wanted you to meet Jonathan and his assistant because you'll be working closely with them first, understanding the financial side of things before moving on to investments and managing project deadlines. He'll be the first to lead you in this transition to becoming president,"

The conversations continued in a similar vein throughout the night, with Bulma hiding the welling up of anxiety and vast realization that her life would change much in the next six months. Was she ready for this?

It was too late to turn back. Bulma Briefs was past the point of no return.

* * *

Pulling her heels off, she drug her tired corpse down a set of stairs to the large communications screen in her personal lab. She abandoned her shawl at the entrance of the house, haphazardly hung on the coatrack.

The evening had been a success, even without Yamcha there. She'd met nearly every higher-up at the party and started to form great acquaintances with those she would soon lead. Right now, however, she had an important date to keep.

Running fingers through her blue tresses, Bulma managed find every pin and sighed in relief as her hair relaxed in waves around her shoulders. Pressing a few buttons, a ring began to sound off to the side, the screen waiting to connect.

On the sixth ring, the man picked up.

"Hey Vegeta,"

In the crimson glow of the gravity room, the Prince of Saiyans looked fearsome. He was shirtless, having cast off his armor, his chest was glistening. He didn't seem happy at the moment, although Bulma couldn't actually recall a time that he genuinely looked happy. She stifled her initial reaction of the shirtless Prince, which would have been something akin to seeing a large slice of chocolate cake.

A few beats later and, "Yes, Woman? What is it that you require of me?" ruined the eye-candy that she could no longer enjoy. The jackass personality attached to it made the entire ensemble rather insufferable most days.

Lifting her gaze, she asked, "Have you found Goku yet?"

"I traveled to Namek and as we all know, there was nothing. I have not yet picked up a lead on Kakkarrot, so I am traveling to the nearest planet with sentient life," He paused, looking at her. "Why are you dressed in such a ridiculous fashion?"

"Ridiculous? I'll have you know Vegeta that this 'fashion' you're making fun of is incredibly expensive," Besides, there had been more to the outfit, she'd just systematically undressed herself before calling him. Bulma certainly wasn't going to divulge that information or else she would never live it down.

The prince stood in his traditional pose, scowl chiseled into his brow, arms across his chest. The heiress couldn't help but appreciate the muscles that rippled over his forearms and his well-formed biceps. "Another reason the human race has proven it's idiocy to me, paying so much for something that covers so little,"

She opened her mouth to retort, but realized that Vegeta's statement made sense. Instead, she said, "I was promoted today. In a few months I will be heading Capsule Corporation's operations on my own,"

"Oh bravo, Woman… this better not inhibit your ability to develop technology for my training,"

She held up her hand while speaking, hoping to stop him from beginning a tirade of insults. "Of course not, _your highness_, it just means that anything I do give you might take longer to complete. Seeing as I'm the only one on this planet capable, I'm sure you'll manage,"

"Just as I'm sure _you'll manage_ after I come back and destroy your planet," He was worked up about something, trying to goad her into a yelling match. Bulma was in no mood, far too happy with the way the entire night had gone.

"Bring me back a souvenir from your trip, okay? It's a family tradition we have here," Bulma remarked, winking at Vegeta. The bubbles must've started to go to her head. It was hard to tell from the red glow of his ship if the short Prince was blushing or not, but the blue-haired woman saw his glance dart to the floor for a second.

"Sue-veneer? W-what?" He was quizzical, his head cocked to the side, one eyebrow raised slightly higher than the other. He was still guarded, but Bulma wanted to find out what had him on edge earlier.

"A souvenir," She pronounced it slowly, "You know- something to bring back that marks a certain importance to your trip. It helps remind you of the trip you've been on and the memories you had while taking it. You've never done that?" Her words caused a twitch in his cheek before he snorted.

"Woman, if I had collected these 'souvenirs' on every trip I'd ever taken, I'd have a house bigger than yours full of shit from dead planets,"

"It must've been hard to see Namek," She spoke quietly, knowing that it probably was the first time he'd seen a planet destroyed since finding out about Freiza destroying the Planet Vegeta.

"Hard to see a bunch of space dust? I believe my delicate sensibilities are still intact, Woman," He chuckled under his breath.

Her eyes stared into his as the words slipped from her mouth, "I mean it must've been hard to see a planet that ended up like your home," Her hand flew to cover her mouth, a small gasp the last sound she made. If she was flying off with these comments, Bulma must've had more drinks than she realized.

His mouth opened. Bulma prepared herself for a verbal flaying.

Seconds ticked by.

Not a single sound came from his lips.

Bulma Briefs succeeded in rendering the Prince of all Saiyans speechless.

She was pretty sure that he had never been spoken to like that.

She was also pretty sure that she would be dead if not for being halfway across the universe.

The look on his face was one of mixed emotions. Fury, confusion, pain, sadness all flickered across his brow, lighting up in his dark gaze. It brought forth not only the past, but the fresh reminder of his failure where Goku had triumphed. The uncomfortable silence and awkward tension caused a shiver to race up Bulma's spine.

She needed to end the conversation. Quickly.

"Well…. -I had a long day and all I want is to go to sleep. Contact me when you've found something. Okay? Bye!" She paused, her finger hesitating over the button, "And Vegeta? Don't kill yourself over trying to achieve this Saiyan Legend…" She quietly added, "It's not worth you dying over this,"

Her pale face with its bright blue eyes blinked off the screen a second later.

Vegeta shook his head, anger filling his veins moments after her face faded from view. How dare she presume to understand his machinations? How dare she speak to him, the Prince of Saiyans in such a manner?

Turning away, he increased the gravity by 10 G-forces even as his body protested, "That woman, is where you are wrong. It is _everything_,"

To Vegeta, all else was worthless.

* * *

**A/N: This is actually the second half of the last chapter that I split into two separate chapters. From now until the end of the fic, Vegeta and Bulma will be sharing at least one scene a chapter with each other. Hooray! That also means that the rating of these chapters may go up rather soon.**

**I apologize for this chapter coming out so late! I've been gone the past two weeks and haven't had the time to catch up and look over this before posting it! I'll post the next chapter as soon as I'm done with it to make up for the wait.**

**Fun Fact: If you don't know what some of the chapter titles mean, I suggest looking it up. They're like little Easter eggs at the beginning of each chapter. **


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